


if you change your mind

by sarahyyy



Series: MasterChef AU [4]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, MasterChef AU, Wedding Jitters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are we sure he wants to marry me?” Enjolras asks, pacing around the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you change your mind

“Are we sure he wants to marry me?” Enjolras asks, pacing around the room. 

He’s antsy, has been ever since Eponine and Bahorel showed up to take Grantaire away, telling him in no nonsense terms that the both of them need to keep up with the tradition of not seeing each other the night before the wedding. He hasn’t heard from Grantaire yet, and while Courfeyrac’s assured him that it’s because Eponine took Grantaire’s phone off him, Enjolras is still worried, because what if Grantaire decides to change his mind?

Combeferre sighs, and repeats for the umpteenth time, “He’s not going to change his mind.”

Enjolras pulls at his tie. “But-” He huffs out, frustrated. “What if-”

“Relax,” Courfeyrac says. “There’s no way he’s not going to show up. Do you remember when we were scouting for churches to hold the wedding at?” 

Enjolras nods.

—

_The moment Grantaire comes into view, Enjolras maybe loses his breath a little._

_It’s no secret that he’s completely smitten by Grantaire —anyone who’s ever seen any episode of their season on MasterChef together would know that— but this kind of brings things to a completely new level, because Grantaire is smiling, happy and radiant, walking down the aisle, eyes locked with Enjolras’, he’s mouthing_ I love you _at Enjolras, and oh, it’s a good thing that he’s going to be Enjolras’ husband soon because Enjolras is so in love with him he doesn’t know what to do about it._

_Grantaire’s smile is impossibly wide when he reaches the altar and comes to stand by Enjolras._

_“Hi, Chicken,” he says softly, and offers his hand to Enjolras, who laces their fingers together tightly._

_“I love you,” Enjolras says, because he sees no reason to keep the words to himself, not when he knows that it’ll make Grantaire’s gaze go fond like that, not when they’re standing here about to_ marry _each other. He brings their joined hands up together to press a kiss to the back of Grantaire’s hand._

_“Fuck, I can’t do this,” Courfeyrac says from the side._

_“Courf,” Combeferre admonishes._

“Look at them,” _Courfeyrac says, and Enjolras pulls away sheepishly from where he’s started to lean into Grantaire, thinking about pressing his lips to Grantaire’s, just because Grantaire looks so happy. “You both know we’re just location-scouting today, right? You might not even get married here.”_

_“We’re getting married here,” Enjolras and Grantaire say in unison, and Enjolras gives into the urge to kiss Grantaire quickly._

_“It feels right,” Grantaire says, when Enjolras pulls away. “I like this church.”_

_“There’re four more places you said you wanted to see,” Courfeyrac reminds them, but Enjolras shakes his head._

_“This one is the one,” he says, and squeezes Grantaire’s hand, grinning. “Grantaire likes this one too. This is the one.”_

_Grantaire kisses him on the cheek. “I love you.”_

—

Enjolras lets out a breath. His chest doesn’t feel so tight anymore. 

“Better?” Combeferre asks, smiling softly.

“A bit,” Enjolras admits. His gaze goes to the clock again. It hasn’t been more than ten minutes since he last checked, and there’s no reason for the answer to have changed since he last asked, but, “Are we sure that someone will come and let us know when Grantaire arrives? Are we not supposed to go check on them ourselves? How will we know that he’s even coming at all if we don’t keep checking?” 

Combeferre sighs and looks to Courfeyrac for help.

“Oh, oh!” Courfeyrac exclaims. “Think about the suit fitting.”

—

_“Fuck,” Enjolras breathes out when he sees Grantaire. “R, you look-” His throat feels dry, and he’s not sure if he has the right words in him to express how attractive he thinks Grantaire looks in a suit. “Gorgeous,” he settles for, which is inadequate. Grantaire looks more than gorgeous._

_“I look gorgeous?” Grantaire asks, incredulous._ “You _look- Fuck, E, how do I even begin?”_

_Cosette coughs. “I’m still here,” she says, “and so is Feuilly.”_

_“Shit,” Enjolras says. “Sorry.”_

_Feuilly’s lips are curled up in a tiny smirk. “Would you both like some time alone? Cosette needs to go look at the dresses for the bridesmaids and I could go help.”_

_“I completely understand why you’re Enjolras’ favourite now,” Grantaire says from beside Enjolras, and Feuilly snorts._

_“Like he could like anyone more than he likes you,” Feuilly says, and leads Cosette away._

“You’re _my favourite,” Enjolras tells Grantaire, because Grantaire hadn’t sounded like he was joking just now, and there is a slight chance that he might not know that there’s literally no-one else that Enjolras likes more than him._

_Grantaire sighs, a happy little sound, and curls his fingers around the back of Enjolras’ neck, pulling him down closer. “I really love you,” he tells Enjolras. When Enjolras responds with the same words, Grantaire kisses him deeply for a moment before he pulls away and asks, “How long do you think they’re going to be gone, and how quiet do you think we can be?”_

_Enjolras’ eyes widen. “R, we can’t possibly.”_

_Grantaire grins at him, presses in close, pushes at Enjolras a little so he’s walking backwards, letting Grantaire back him up against the nearest wall. “We can, Enjolras,” Grantaire says against the curve of his jaw. “We really, really can.”_

—

“Okay,” Courfeyrac says, when Enjolras’ breath goes faint. “Okay, okay, stop thinking unless you’re thinking PG thoughts.”

Enjolras snaps back to himself. “How did you even know about that?”

Courfeyrac laughs. “I really didn’t,” he tells Enjolras. “I just figured that with the both of you being so ridiculously in love, you’d have good memories about basically anything wedding related. I picked at random, and you proved me right.”

Enjolras sighs, and finally settles down on the couch. “I am scared.”

“It’s natural to be scared,” Combeferre says. “Marriage is a very serious commitment. You’d be foolish not to be at least a little afraid.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” Enjolras says quietly. “I’m afraid that I’m not going to be good enough for him, that one day these feelings that we have for each other are going to fade. I don’t want that to happen.”

Courfeyrac claps him on the shoulder. “It’s not going to,” he assures Enjolras. “I’ve never seen two people so in love.”

“Marius and Cosette,” Enjolras reminds him. “They’ve been married two years now, and they still love each other as much as when they first met. I want that with Grantaire, and I’m afraid that we won’t get that.”

“Are you so afraid that you would give up before you try?” Combeferre asks. 

Enjolras shakes his head. “Never.”

“Good,” Courfeyrac says. “We can’t tell you what the future is going to hold for the both of you, but you’re good now, you’re _so_ good now, and I can’t see that changing anytime soon, so relax, enjoy your wedding day.”

“I would,” Enjolras says, petulant now, “if you would just let me go out and check if Grantaire is here yet.”

Courfeyrac sighs. “Okay, what else can we distract you with? The wedding rehearsal? Oh, yes, the wedding rehearsal. You know that when you call for a rehearsal, the both of you have to be there at the specified time because the rehearsal can’t go on without the both of you, right?”

Enjolras flushes slightly. “We said we were sorry,” he says.

—

_“Fuck, fuck, Chicken, we’re going to be so late,” Grantaire moans in his ear, but he doesn’t seem to be too inclined to stop, hips still twitching up against Enjolras’, searching for friction. “Everyone is going to know.”_

_“Let them know,” Enjolras says, and then kisses Grantaire, pulls Grantaire in closer to him when he feels Grantaire shiver against him and snakes his hand down to cup Grantaire’s erection in his hand. “Let them all know.”_

_Grantaire laughs. “You say that now,” he gets out in between kisses, “but when they’re teasing us, you’re going to be the one going all red.”_

_Enjolras hums and unbuttons Grantaire’s jeans, pausing when he has his fingers on the fly of his jeans. “Would you like me to stop, then?”_

_“Fuck, no,” Grantaire says, and kisses him again, all teeth and tongue, arching up against Enjolras beautifully when Enjolras finally wraps his hand around Grantaire’s cock. “Fuck, Enjolras, oh fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you.”_

—

“That was a bad idea,” Courfeyrac says. “No more thinking about sexy times with Grantaire.”

“I’m not-” Enjolras starts, but it’s mostly a token protest. His cheeks feel warm, and Courfeyrac certainly knows him well enough to be able to tell when he’s lying. “It’s just- Is it stupid to be missing him already?”

Combeferre smiles at that. “It’s not,” he tells Enjolras kindly. 

Enjolras is about to make a note on how it’s two minutes past Grantaire’s ETA already when there is a knock on the door before someone is cracking the door open. Joly’s head pops in. 

“I’m here to check for Grantaire if Enjolras is already here,” Joly says. “He wouldn’t believe me when I told him that there’s literally no way Enjolras wouldn’t be here.”

Enjolras’ heartbeat speeds up. “Is he here already?”

Joly laughs. “You’re acting just like him,” he tells Enjolras. “I’m supposed to pass you a message. Grantaire said to ask you: _Chicken, are you sure you want to be stuck with me for life?_ ” 

“Yes,” Enjolras says quickly, and then moves closer to Joly, as if the proximity would help him express himself any better. “ _Yes_ , of course yes. Tell him I said yes. Tell him there’s no way I would’ve said no. Tell him I love him. Tell him-”

“Oh God,” Courfeyrac says, exasperation evident in his voice, but he’s smiling, so Enjolras continues.

“Tell him I miss him,” he says. “Tell him I can’t wait to see him, that I can’t wait to marry him finally and be able to call him my husband.”

Joly smiles. “I’ll see to it that he gets the message.”

He leaves then, closing the door behind him, and Enjolras’ heart is still racing, but less because he’s nervous now, and more because of the anticipation.

He’s going to marry Grantaire today, Christ, he actually is.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com/), come say hi! :D


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